The Sword and the Shepherd
by Dr. Phoenix
Summary: Bathsheba's point of view about life in King David's harem. A few chapters of David's backstory. Rated T for allusions to sensuality and birthing scenes, but nothing too graphic. Names used for God are all different names for the same God, not the names of different gods.
1. Chapter 1

I became Uriyah's wife before I became a woman. We were only children when the ketubah was signed. Uriyah was told what price he would have to pay as my dowry when we had come of age, but we were so young that adulthood seemed an eternity away, so although we were legally married, we rarely thought of each other.

To be honest, I was in no hurry to be taken as a wife, for I had witnessed my sisters pass into adulthood. I remembered the pain on their faces as they clutched their stomachs during the time of their monthly impurity. Furthermore, I remembered when I was first old enough to be invited to a wedding.

Qetsiyah had spent the day pacing the corridors and wringing her hands as she awaited the arrival of Gaddiyel. She seemed most nervous when she looked at the bed that had been prepared for her with the canopy above it. On the bed was a bit of cloth on which Ima had painstakingly sewn my sister's name and the date of the wedding feast.

"Do you understand what is to be done when your husband arrives?" Ima queried.

Biting her lip, Qetsiyah nodded mutely.

"Just do as you must and be done with it!" my mother advised. "It is the fate of every woman, and there's no help for it!"

"Why is she frightened?" I asked. "Uriyah and I have been married for years, and I'm not afraid of him."

"Oh, you simpleton!" my sister exclaimed in exasperation. "Wait until it happens to you! You'll have your own wedding feast someday!"

"Be kind!" Ima scolded. "I won't have you fighting with your sister. You must be beautiful and pleasant for your husband."

Qetsiyah almost burst into tears when she heard the knock at the door, punctuated by a shofar. Gaddiyel called out to my sister and those of us who would witness their marriage.

"Don't be frightened," Aunt Naamiy whispered, pulling Qetsiyah into an embrace. "Your husband is a very nervous man, not a monster. He's unsure of himself as well, but he wants to give you a good life. Just wait until you hear how many kind words he speaks to praise your beauty."

Qetsiyah silently thanked our aunt with her eyes.

"Remember what I told you about the oil."

She nodded briefly before walking over to Gaddiyel, who tried to smile encouragingly, but I noticed he looked as if he didn't have the first idea about what should happen next. His hands were sweating so badly that he wiped them on his robe before taking my sister's hands in his.

They went into the chamber together and closed the door. I waited outside the room with the other maidens chosen as witnesses. Just as I was beginning to get bored, wondering what it was that I should be doing, I heard Qetsiyah cry out in pain, followed by her tearful sobbing.

"Is she alright?" I asked, my eyes wide in horror.

My cousin, Yonit, put her hand on my shoulder reassuringly. "All women must submit themselves to injury when they become wives. You'll understand when you're older."

Gaddiyel shouted joyfully. Shortly afterwards, he came out of the room, proudly displaying linen that had been stained with blood. The male wedding guests congratulated him for finding a pure wife, and after Avi and Ima had inspected the cloth, they gave it to Qetsiyah for safe keeping.

My sister was still crying. "Oh, Ima! Why must women…?"

"Quiet!" Ima scolded. "Would you ruin this day of celebration with your senseless tears? You'll have worse pain during childbirth!"

Unable to understand what had happened, I was horrified, but Yonit simply stated that it was a part of life. Besides, in a strange manner, it was also beautiful; a man and a woman went from being nervous and clumsy in each other's presence to uniting as one flesh as if it were the most natural thing in the world. A man was forced to use all his emotional strength for physical pleasure, and a woman was forced to endure physical pain to experience emotions she never imagined. Both people found great delight, but both were required to make a sacrifice for it.

"Do you understand now?" Yonit queried gently

I still didn't understand at all, but I appreciated the way my cousin was trying to comfort me for my future marriage, so I said nothing.

We formed a joyous procession and ceremonial escorted Qetsiyah to the home of her new husband, where a splendid feast awaited us. However, I didn't have much of an appetite. I wondered what wound Gaddiyel had inflicted on his bride and why he had been pleased with himself for harming her. Had Avi hurt Ima like that when they were first married? Would Uriyah hurt me?

I was even less excited about marriage when another of my sisters, Odeleya, brought forth her firstborn. She spent months growing fatter, complaining that she could barely move, for her hips were kicked in and out of socket, and the pressure inside her body was so great that she could hardly breathe. Her ankles became swollen, and she suffered frequent bouts of nausea. She complained that parts of her body ached so dreadfully that she could scarcely bear to put on her robe. Furthermore, she was so exhausted that she spent most of her time sleeping.

After begging my mother for weeks, I was allowed to watch the birth of my nephew, but I was horrified by what I saw. Odeleya no longer had her modesty, her dignity, or her privacy. Pains seized control of her body so strongly that she was no longer in her right mind. She was hoarse from her horrendous shrieks, and her robe was drenched in sweat. She had also lost control of all bodily functions.

I hoped the baby would be born quickly, but Odeleya lay in anguish for hours. Even between her pains, the fear remained in her eyes. She began to pray for her own death, that she might suffer no longer.

Aunt Naamiy tried to comfort her. She brought Odeleya flowers and reminded her that nearly every woman in the history of the world had been a mother, and all mothers had suffered for the sake of their babies. My aunt kept dabbing my sister's brow with a damp cloth and reminding her how wonderful it would be to hold the tiny miracle in her arms.

"Your baby will be the most beautiful sight in the world," she stated. "Your husband will be so proud of you, and you'll be smiling down on a pair of innocent, helpless eyes trusting you completely, and you'll hold the baby to your shoulder and feel the tiny heart beat next to your own. The baby will coo and pat you in its sleep to make sure you're still there, and you'll enjoy the warmth of each other's embrace."

Odeleya seemed to have taken leave of her senses. There was no sense of reason or expectant hope about her, just a screaming mass of torment. Her eyes had taken on a sort of glaze, almost like a mad dog.

"It's different for all women," Yonit explained to me. "For some mothers, it just feels like very strong indigestion, not nearly as bad as they fear. For others, it's like this, far worse than anything they could imagine. Sometimes it feels like the whole abdomen tightens. Other times, it's a severe backache or feeling like there's a dark shape or a lump of fire inside the body."

"Come!" Ima beckoned to me. "You want to be here, Bathsheva, so come see how babies are born."

I do not care to remember the horrific sight of my sister's body. It looked worse than a butchered sheep. I wondered how midwives ever tolerated such filth or how much pain a woman had to feel before she stopped caring about having her body exposed for the world to see.

Just before midnight, the midwife announced that the baby would arrive shortly. However, she had to grab the infant and turn it while it was still inside my sister while Aunt Naamiy and Yonit held the mother's knees and ankles. Odeleya screamed in even worse pain than she had felt previously, sobbing and begging for mercy, but the midwife continued tugging on the baby until she was satisfied.

"A few more strong pushes, dear," the midwife instructed.

"I can't!" Odeleya rasped breathlessly.

"The baby has to be born!" Ima retorted. "Now push!"

"I don't have the strength!"

To my surprise, Ima slapped Odeleya across the face. "It is your duty as a woman to give your husband children. No one cares if you're tired or weak. It has to be done. The baby must be born, and there's no help for it. Now do what the midwife says."

My sister put all her effort into one tremendous heave, falling backward from the effort. The midwife pulled a slimy blob from Odeleya's limp body.

"You have a strong daughter!" she announced proudly.

Odeleya didn't respond. She simply remained completely motionless.

"Wake up!" Ima exclaimed, shaking her. "The baby has arrived. This is what you wanted, so see what you've done."

My sister's unblinking eyes were fixed on the window in a blank stare. They seemed vacant, lacking all expression of emotion. Even when the midwife placed the baby in her arms, Odeleya's eyes remained staring at the window. They were beginning to look as if they were made of glass.

Ima took a bowl of water and a cloth. She lightly began dabbing my sister's face, scolding her for her foolishness. After all, every mother since the beginning of time has had to endure the misery of childbirth. There was no excuse for lying helplessly when the baby needed her.

Seeing that Odeleya still didn't blink or move her eyes, Ima sighed, gently pressing my sister's eyelids to make them close. The midwife adjusted my sister's robe so the baby could nurse for the first and last time.

"At least she will be spared the complications that happen to a woman's body after she gives birth," Ima remarked.

I thought how sad it was for my little niece to grow up without knowing her mother. How would Odeleya's husband react when he found out his beloved wife was dead?

When we returned home, I was unable to sleep. Was there a way Uriyah and I could break our agreement to wed when we were older? If he divorced me publicly, I would be disgraced, and Uriyah would keep my dowry. If we divorced privately, Uriyah would be disgraced, and he would have to return my dowry and pay a fine of fifty shekels.

Ultimately, I knew I had no choice. It was my place to submit to the wishes of my father and husband. As my mother often reminded me, there was no help for it.


	2. Chapter 2

Like my father, Uriyah was one of King Dawid's elite warriors. Although Uriyah was only a child when we were officially married, he was still older than I was, so he became a man years before I became a woman.

However, the day inevitably arrived when my body began experiencing certain changes. On the day I first began my impurity, my mother asked me to take a walk with her so we could speak privately.

"You are a woman now," she stated, "so you will soon be given to your husband. When you are alone in your chamber, he will act gentle and kind, but when he has exposed your full beauty, he will be consumed with lust, and he will attack you as a wild beast."

My eyes widened in horror.

"You must not protest. It is simply the way things must be for women. Every woman experiences her wedding night differently. It may hurt slightly for a few moments, or you may be in crippling pain for over a week."

I was frightened, but there was no help for it. I must complete the wedding ceremony when my husband came for me.

"You will experience a week of impurity every month. If you do not, you are likely with child. If you carry new life, you will also feel ill, and you will gain weight, especially in the waist."

I nodded, remembering how Odeleya had looked.

"When your baby is ready to be born, you will feel such great pains that you will not care what parts of your body the midwife sees or what instructions she gives you about personal matters after the birth. It's only natural. All animals do it."

Was that all marriage was? A man and a woman gave their bodies to each other and produced offspring, just like animals. The man earned coins, and the woman made sure the home was comfortable. Was there nothing more to this arrangement?

On the day of my wedding, my youngest cousin helped prepare me to meet Uriyah. She painted my face with cosmetics and adorned me with jewelry, some of which had been in the family for years. Finally, Semadar helped me apply perfumed oil.

"You look beautiful!" she complimented. "Uriyah is a blessed man!"

"Thank you," I responded.

"I have been praying that Elohim will bless you with many sons."

"I also pray it will be so."

Perhaps it goes without saying that Uriyah wore the garments traditional of a Hittite wedding. He was in high spirits when the door was opened for him.

"We welcome you," I stated.

He smiled, looking me over from head to toe. "My wife!"

My heart was racing from fear as he took me into the room that had been prepared for us. However, I dared not protest, for I knew there were ten witnesses on the other side of the door. I must not disgrace myself or my family by complaining about my own wedding.

I wished to die of shame when I finally understood what my mother had meant about my husband seeing my full beauty. Was this truly how it was done? Had my father seen my mother this way on the day they were married?

"You're so beautiful!" Uriyah kissed my neck. "Why don't you let me rub oil on your shoulders?"

I lay down and allowed him to massage my shoulders and back. Although I could feel the strength behind his hands, he was surprisingly gentle. As he worked, he continued to compliment my beauty.

"Your slender form! Your red lips!" He kissed me again. "Your bright eyes!" Uriyah stroked my hair. "I can't believe how beautiful my wife is!"

To my surprise, he too removed his garments and lay beside me on the bed. My husband gently moved my hand to his upper arm, encouraging me to feel his muscles. I was still unable to understand fully how it was that we were seeing and feeling each other's bodies, hiding nothing, as if it were the most natural thing in the world.

When Uriyah pushed himself up, I knew what he wanted. Not wishing to see a disrobed man over me or what he was about to do, I shut my eyes tightly. After asking if I was comfortable, my husband pressed his lips against mine in a passionate kiss to conceal my cries, and with a burst of anguish, I became his wife.

With an exclamation of delight, he quickly donned his robe and rushed out of the chamber with the cloth that proclaimed my former chastity. As I put on my own garments, I breathed a sigh of relief. Until the day came when I would bear my firstborn, the worst was finally over.

Now I was free to imagine our future together. What kind of husband would Uriyah be? Would he beat his wife? Did he drink too much? Did he earn sufficient income as a soldier? What were his annoying habits? Would he be displeased if I bore daughters rather than sons? What foods should I prepare for him? What would my new home be like?

The feast lasted for days. While our families were getting to know each other, we enjoyed fresh pomegranates, grapes, figs, and dishes of olives and baked onions with bread. Uriyah's parents had even prepared roasted lamb. For dessert, we had fresh fruit with honey.

At last, the celebration ended, and Uriyah and I began our daily routine as husband and wife. After so many years of being promised to each other, we were finally beginning life together.

Sometimes while we did our chores together, he told me about the culture and beliefs of the Hittites. He lived among them, despite being born Jewish. His ancestry was of both peoples.

In the late afternoon or early evening, we would take walks together. Although we had met a few times as children, we had never had time to get to know each other. It was pleasant just to be able to talk, to get to know my husband's dreams and fears.

"Did you ever meet King Dawid personally?" I asked. "You are one of his elite soldiers, after all."

"The king and your father are old friends," he replied. "They've fought together for years. It was only natural that I'd have the chance to befriend the king as well."

"What's he like?"

"Well, despite being older than your own father, he's still maintained his youthful appearance over the years."

I sat at my loom, weaving the cloth as Uriyah wove his tales of the king's past.


	3. Chapter 3

Dawid was only a boy when he was put in charge of his father's sheep. He had not yet begun to grow facial hair, nor had his voice begun to deepen, but the task must be done.

"Avi says I am old enough to do a man's work," Gidown stated. "He wants me to teach you to mind the sheep. It's easy enough. That's why the youngest children must do it. Bring your harp."

Confused, Dawid grabbed his harp and followed after his brother, who would instruct him for only one day.

"You have to talk to the sheep so they'll know your voice and follow you," Gidown remarked.

"Very well, Gidi," Dawid answered.

Gidown sighed. "I'm too old for nicknames, Dawid. I'm a man now."

Sadly, Gidown would not live long enough to take a wife, for he would be struck down in battle, but of course, neither of the young men had any way of knowing the future.

They walked to the field with their family's sheep trailing behind them. As soon as the sheep were grazing peacefully, the boys sat in the shade of the nearest tree.

"One of our sisters will bring food for our noon meal," Gidown stated.

Dawid nodded.

"Keep a sharp eye out for poisonous plants. We can't afford to lose any sheep."

"Yes, Gidi." Dawid sighed. "Gidown."

"You'll have to shear the sheep every spring, and you'll have to make sure they're healthy. Wrap their sore muscles and put oil on their wounds. Set their limbs. Give them medicinal herbs if you notice the presence of worms."

"It's a lot to remember."

Gidown sighed. "Even women and young children barely past infancy can tend sheep, Dawid. It's not difficult."

Dawid nodded again, and Gidown continued his lessons. Goats could easily tear their ears on briars, and during lambing season, the shepherd must make sure pregnant ewes were kept apart from those who had not yet accepted the rams' advances. When the lambs were born, the shepherd must assist any ewe who struggled.

The rod must be used to beat the bushes when walking to make sure no hidden creatures would suddenly spring from the foliage and startle the sheep. It could also be used to protect the shepherd from any predators that attacked the flock.

The staff would be a signal to the sheep that the person who fed them had arrived. It could also catch hold of a sheep around the middle or leg when necessary, such as when it had turned over on its back and could not right itself.

Sheep were affected by the weather. A lamb could perish beneath the sun's scorching rays. The chill of the cold wind or the pelting of hailstones could also cause a sheep to become ill. For this reason, shepherds would not take their flocks to the fields during the time of rains.

The shepherd must find green pastures for his sheep. As the flock became larger, more food would be required, and sheep would often graze until the ground was bare, perhaps covered with the slightest bit of stubble.

In addition to finding food, the shepherd must find water to quench the thirst of his sheep, for unlike many animals, the sheep were not clever enough to find a source of water on their own. Furthermore, sheep much preferred to drink from still water, for the swiftness of a river's current could easily carry away a sheep.

"Remember, Dawid," Gidown continued, "if a sheep starts to drown, the shepherd goes in after it."

Dawid shuddered at the thought of plunging into a swollen river, braving a torrential current as he fought to catch up with the struggling sheep, hoping to grasp it with his staff before it perished. He much preferred the idyllic pastures, for even boredom was better than sheer terror.

"Do you know what your sling is for?"

"Yes," Dawid responded. "I send a rock just in front or to the side of a sheep that I wish to go in another direction."

"You can also use it against predators."

Bandits would sometimes attempt to steal an entire flock. Jackals, wolves, bears, lions, leopards, and striped hyenas would prey on sheep.

Dawid thought for several moments. "I think I could fight a hyena or a jackal, but I'm not sure about a leopard. They're huge! They'd be able to kill me before I struck them with my rod, and I couldn't possibly sling a rock large enough to do anything other than make them angry."

Gidown nodded. He had heard of a shepherd who once saw three wolves pulling down a sheep. When the shepherd tried to protect his flock, the wolves ambushed him as well. Each time he turned to face one, the others would attack him from the back and sides. Although his courageous dog had managed to save him from the wolves, the shepherd still died of his injuries a few hours later.

Hearing his own dog bark, Gidown looked toward the flock. One of the sheep was beginning to stray, but Mahir knew his job well. He immediately rushed toward the wandering sheep, carefully herding it back to the others.

"That's one of your duties, Dawid. Mahir is a great help, but you have to help him keep watch." Gidown stroked the dog's ears. "Good boy, Mahir."

Dawid frowned. "You're unclean now because you touched a dog."

"I'm not planning on making a sacrifice today, so what does it matter? Besides, would you rather let the sheep wander off to their demise?"

Dawid passed the long hours of the monotonous day playing his flute or gingerly stroking his harp. He was determined that the sheep should know his voice, for when the flock panicked at the sound of jackals howling, it would be the voice of their shepherd that called them. After all, even sheep who were not bitten by predators had still been known to die of panic. Stressed sheep could even miscarry their lambs.

As the days passed, Dawid came to learn the sheep by name. His favorite was a lamb called Tuwbal. The small creature was so lively, and he often tugged on the hem of Dawid's robe until Dawid picked him up and held him on his lap.

However, Dawid knew he must not become too attached to this animal, for it was to be the sacrifice the next time his family went to the altar of Elohim. For this reason, it had to be kept free of injury or disease. To protect it further, the family allowed it to sleep in their home at night rather than in the fold with the other sheep.

To Dawid's horror, the lamb got caught in a thicket of briars the day before it was to be taken to the altar. Yishai sighed and scolded Dawid for his negligence while tending sheep, for even the slightest blemish made the sacrifice unacceptable. Although he promised to perform his duties better, Dawid secretly rejoiced that he would have more time with his favorite lamb.

One day as Dawid was practicing his harp, the dog started barking. His barks soon became ferocious snarls, and his hackles rose.

"What is it, Mahir?" Dawid asked, grabbing his sling and his rod.

Mahir rushed to protect the flock just as an adolescent male lion sprang from the bushes and seized a lamb in its jaws: Tuwbal.


	4. Chapter 4

Dawid barely noticed the frightened bleating of the sheep around him. Without even realizing what he was doing, he rushed toward the lion. Having four legs to a human's two, the predatory creature was happily trotting away with its prize, breaking into a run when it noticed the dog pursuing it.

Many times, Dawid had practiced slinging rocks at a tree. Now it was time to test his aim. He kept running as the lion increased the distance between itself and the flock. Dawid knew he must release the rock now, or the lamb was lost.

Feeling the sharp sting on his hip, the lion turned and roared. In that instant, Mahir began fighting the beast. It wasn't much of a fight, for the lion was much bigger and stronger than the dog, but it was enough of a delay that Dawid managed to catch up.

Ignoring the boy, the lion once again picked up the lamb in its jaws, but Dawid caught the beast by the mane that grew beneath its chin. With one strong swing of his rod, he felled the lion.

Tuwbal was still bleating frantically, trembling with fear. Dawid gingerly picked him up and walked back to the flock before the lion regained consciousness. (It was not until evening that he realized the large cat was dead.)

"Are you alright, little friend?" Dawid gently began examining the lamb for wounds. "Did he hurt you?"

There were no serious injuries, but Dawid remembered that sheep could die of fright. He spent the next hour holding Tuwbal on his lap, singing to reassure the traumatized flock. By the end of the day, Dawid rejoiced to see the sheep lying down, for sheep will never do so if any of their needs, including the feeling of security, remain unmet.

When Dawid told the story later, his brothers laughed, unable to believe that the youngest of them had slain a lion. After all, Dawid was not yet a man. However, they were unable to deny that the carcass in the field was indeed a lion that had recently perished.

Yishai shook his head. "Dawid, you have not shown wisdom. Elohim delivered you from the lion, but I would sooner lose our entire flock than one of my sons. Had the lion been any older, he easily would have killed you! Did you think you were Shimshown?"

Dawid remembered the story of Shimshown, a man of incredible strength who had slain a lion with his bare hands, only to find later that bees had made honey in the lion's carcass.

"I'm sorry, Avi," Dawid responded. "I was thinking only of the lamb."

Yishai sighed. "If the lamb means that much to you, son, it's yours."

Dawid smiled warmly and thanked his father. Tuwbal would one day pass away peacefully of old age after spending a lifetime fathering several hundred lambs of his own.

As Dawid sat amid the flock, watching the lambs gambol or leap onto the backs of their patient mothers, he reflected on life. Everything was so peaceful. Surely this must be the tranquility of Elohim's kingdom that would endure forever.

Dawid smiled to himself, thinking how Elohim was like a shepherd, for He would give food and shelter to His people and comfort them with His peace so they would not perish of fright. He would go after those who went astray, and He would fiercely defend all in His care. He would be provider, protector, physician, and friend.

Lightly coaxing a melody from his harp, Dawid was moved to recite:

" _YHWH is my shepherd, and I will not be lacking in anything._

 _I will lie down in green pastures._

 _He will lead me over to still waters._

 _He will return my breath;_

 _He will guide me in the paths of correction_

 _Because of His name._

 _In addition, when I travel_

 _In the gorge of the shadow of the dead,_

 _I will not be afraid of bad things_

 _Because you are beside me;_

 _Your staff and stick,_

 _They give me relief, and I am consoled."_

His musings were interrupted when he saw Gidown walking toward the pasture. Despite the peaceful surroundings that allowed him to meditate on Elohim, Dawid was always grateful for human company, especially of Gidown.

" _Shalom!_ " Dawid greeted.

"You've missed the gathering," Gidown replied. "Only an hour or two after you took the sheep to pasture for the day, we received a visitor, the prophet Shemuel."

Shemuel had come in peace to Bethlehem for the purpose of having Yishai and his sons consecrate themselves, for Shemuel wished to invite them to sacrifice with him. Dawid secretly smiled to himself, grateful his beloved Tuwbal would never be brought to the altar.

Having received divine instruction to do so, Shemuel caused each of Yishai's sons to pass before him, but El Elyon had chosen none of them. Shemuel had then queried if any sons remained at home, and Yishai had explained that Dawid was tending sheep. In response, Shemuel had declared that they would proceed no further until Dawid arrived; they would not even be seated.

"I cannot leave the sheep alone," Dawid replied.

"I will tend them until you return," answered Gidown. "Now go quickly! Shemuel seems to have important business with you!"


	5. Chapter 5

Being a robust lad, Dawid had a brisk gait. He was soon away from the pasture, nearing his father's home. The town lay just beyond the small farm. However, Dawid first had to consecrate himself.

Drawing some water from the well, he washed his body and put on a clean tunic. It would be unfitting for him to appear for a sacrifice without first preparing himself properly. His clean body and clean clothes were an outward demonstration that he had set himself apart from his daily tasks.

As he neared the town, Dawid felt he could already detect the faintest scent of fresh bread on the gentle breeze. He wondered if perhaps this was how Bethlehem had gotten its name.

Two scholars were standing in front of a building, waving their arms in a heated debate. Dawid supposed the conversation to be philosophical, but it could just as easily have been about the government. King Shaul had begun his reign as everything his subjects had idealized, but lately, he had become headstrong, obstinate and quick to anger.

As thoughts of Shaul came to his mind, Dawid silently prayed for his king. Shaul had plenty of faults, but he had still been chosen by Elohim to be anointed by Shemuel as king. For this reason alone, Dawid was loyal to a fault. Besides, Shaul had proven a strong military leader.

The stench of fish came from a narrow alley. Dawid would not have fed an animal such rotten fish, and he wondered if the man selling them were really foolish enough to believe any customers would purchase the stinking carcasses that were attracting swarms of flies.

Hearing the distant barking of dogs, Dawid continued on his way. He must not touch an unclean animal on his way to sacrifice. He must not even trod upon a lizard by accident.

"Where have you been?" Yishai demanded as Dawid drew near.

"You are the one!" Shemuel announced before Dawid could reply. "Come, my son! Elohim has chosen you!"

Dawid was confused, but he knelt before Shemuel, raising his hands with his palms facing outward. Shemuel gently turned Dawid's right wrist so the palm faced inward, and Dawid turned his left hand as well.

"What have I done that a prophet of Elohim would pray a special blessing over me?" Dawid queried.

"He has rejected Shaul," Shemuel explained. "You shall be the next king of Yisrael!"

Before Dawid could question him further, Shemuel put his hand on the young man's head and began praying over him. When he finished his prayer, Shemuel poured oil over Dawid's head.

Dawid had often used oil on the ears of his sheep, for it was quite useful for tending wounds. However, Dawid never imagined any oil used on his own head would be for the purpose of anointing him as king.

What did he know of statecraft? The only life he knew was that of a shepherd, composing poems with his harp, his monotonous life interrupted by the occasional straggling sheep or injured goat. What did he know of leading an army or hearing his subordinates cry for lower taxation? He knew no foreign languages to trade with merchants from other lands.

As Dawid knew he could do nothing at the present time concerning the matter, he simply turned over his troubled thoughts to Elohim and continued shepherding. He was confident that when the time came for him to conquer this gigantic task ahead of him, Elohim would give him strength and wisdom.

A few weeks later, Dawid was faced with a more immediate danger. One of the sheep had fallen into a natural pit formed by a crevice of rock. Dawid grabbed his staff and hurried to retrieve the sheep before it frightened itself to death.

Dawid was quite skillful. One quick motion of his staff would have the sheep free of its entrapment. However, as he neared the pit, he noticed the dog behaving strangely. Mahir whined, pacing nervously. As Dawid neared the pit, Mahir began circling him, as if trying to herd him back to the rest of the flock.

The behavior of his dog made Dawid uneasy. He knew that Mahir was an intelligent animal. Mahir would bark at a snake, but not a lizard or a worm. He would bark at a wolf, but not a fox. He was even selective about which strangers received warning barks and which visitors were welcomed in peace.

As Dawid lowered his staff to catch the trapped sheep, Mahir faced the nearby woodland, snarling with raised hackles. His growls were punctuated by ferocious barks. Meanwhile, the sheep's frightened bleats grew more frantic, yet somehow in the midst of all the noise, Dawid heard a sound that made his blood run cold.

At first, it sounded like heavy panting, as if someone had run a great distance. Then there was a low groan, as a man might sound when punched in the stomach. However, the panting groan turned into a deep rumble, followed by a nearly deafening roar.

The cries of the lost sheep had attracted a ravenous bear. Quickly but carefully, Dawid set down the sheep he had lifted from the pit. It hurried back to the safety of the flock, but Dawid noticed with alarm that the bear did not give chase.

Mahir raced toward the bear, barking and circling, but always staying just out of reach of the claws of the enraged beast. The bear smote the ground repeatedly with its huge paws to show its annoyance.

Ignoring the dog, the bear charged toward Dawid. Mahir had once more provided just enough of a delay for Dawid to ready his sling and loosen a rock. His aim was true, and the predator fell only two cubits in front of the young shepherd.

Dawid shuddered at the massive size of the bear. If he hadn't been able to slay the giant beast with the first stone, he could easily have been killed. He was humbled at having escaped such great peril, but had Dawid known what other dangers he would face throughout his lifetime, he would never have given the bear a second thought.


	6. Chapter 6

My life as a new bride was nearly perfect. All I lacked to make my joy complete was the ability to bless my husband with a child. Uriyah was a kind man, and although I did not feel strong love for him, I did enjoy his companionship.

The month arrived when I did not experience my impurity. Dared I hope I now carried new life? I wanted to shout it from the rooftops, but it was still too early to be certain.

I was frightened when I remembered my sister's agonizing death, but I felt love stir within me when I saw mothers rocking their babies. I wondered if I carried a strong son or a beautiful daughter. Without realizing what I was doing, I would wrap my arms around my own waist, as if guarding the precious life within me from the outside world.

Until this moment, I had never realized how much I wanted a child, but now I could think of nothing I had ever wanted more. I silently prayed there would be other signs to confirm my suspicions.

I reminded myself not to rush to conclusions. Ima had warned me when I became a woman that sometimes my body would delay its natural course. Any manner of stress could delay or hasten my time of impurity.

I could hardly believe forbidden pleasures were such a normal part of life. No one ever spoke of such topics, but all around us were marriages and births. There were laws concerning health for men and women about even the most personal matters, and all animals instinctually obeyed the command to bring forth their own kind.

However, we also emphasized purity and fidelity. A woman seized by a man who wished to take her by force was blameless if she cried out, but if she willingly offered herself to him, they must be put to death for their relations outside of marriage.

Once when Uriyah reached for me in the middle of the night, I refused his advances. My chest was sore, and it seemed to have grown in size. I had also spent the day without food because anything I ate hurt my stomach.

"Are you ill?" my husband asked kindly.

"Just tired," I answered.

It was true. Although I had done very little that day, I was exhausted.

I tossed and turned most of the night. When I found a position that relieved my backache, my migraine began anew. When I finally found relief from my aching head, I was awakened by the pain in my back.

"Shall I summon the physician?" Uriyah offered.

"It's nothing," I assured him.

"Another woman then? Someone with knowledge of herbs?"

"It's just a passing illness. I'll be well soon."

Although I could tell my husband wasn't convinced, he said nothing more. He simply turned over and fell asleep. I did enjoy Uriyah's companionship, and I wondered if having his baby would cause us to love each other.

My cousin, Yonit, had married for love. Some girls might be disowned for choosing their own husbands and being wed in secret, but when Yonit had told her mother who she wished to marry, Aunt Naamiy had been delighted at having a son-in-law of such integrity. Since Yonit was not yet betrothed to any man, my aunt had gently persuaded my uncle that it would be a suitable match, and he had arranged the details of the marriage.

While awaiting the day of her wedding, Yonit's face had reddened whenever she thought of her husband, and she had smiled and shyly looked to the ground. She often sighed with contentment as her eyes stared vacantly across the room, and she would often wrap her arms around herself, as if imagining a tender embrace. Not once did she cease her chatter about the future, which was mostly implausible daydreams rather than anything logical grounded in reality.

On the day her husband came for her, Yonit's eyes glowed with warmth like a gentle fire, but they also dazzled with excitement. She seemed like a young child receiving a surprise gift.

Breaking all tradition, she didn't wait for Meydad to knock on the door. When she saw him through the window, Yonit flung open the door and ran to meet him. As soon as Meydad saw his bride running toward him, he also ran toward her. They met in a strong embrace, and Meydad lifted Yonit into his arms and twirled her around a few times.

"Long have I awaited this joyous day!" she exclaimed jubilantly, her eyes dazzling like starlight. "I am proud to be your wife!"

Right in front of everyone, while Yonit was still in her husband's arms, they kissed passionately. They kept grabbing each other's heads, as if trying to pull closer still. Tenderly stroking Yonit's hair while she ran her hand down the side of his face, Meydad carried her all the way to their chamber.

To my surprise, the sounds that came from the other side of the door were purely of elation, not of pain. I remembered that it was different for every woman. While some brides writhed in anguish, others felt only slight discomfort.

Eliana, Yonit's eldest sister, clicked her tongue in disapproval, scowling at the door. That was the moment I understood. Yonit had not been a maiden on the day of her wedding.

I silently prayed that the couple would be happy together forever. Otherwise, if Meydad became displeased with Yonit, he could announce she was not chaste when they were married, and she would be stoned to death.

"He won't accuse her of playing the harlot," Eliana whispered, as if able to hear my thoughts. "He shamed her by stealing her chastity, and now he has made amends by taking her as his legal wife."

I nodded, but I wondered if Yonit's chastity had truly been stolen rather than freely given. Surely she would not be so delighted with her husband if he had forced himself on her.

Pushing aside such memories, I tried once again to sleep, still wondering if the arrival of our baby would cause Uriyah and I to love each other as much as Meydad and Yonit. Then again, what if I were truly ill, and I carried no new life inside me?

I knew worrying did more harm than good, but I couldn't help myself. I knew I ought to be grateful that Uriyah and I were so compatible and enjoyed each other's company, but I wanted to feel overpowering desire to be near him, and I wanted to be the most important thing in my husband's life.


	7. Chapter 7

When I experienced the second month without my impurity, I was certain I carried new life. I knew I should tell my husband, but I wanted to wait for just the right moment. It isn't everyday that a woman has the pleasure of announcing that she carries her firstborn.

However, as I slept that night, I awakened in a pool of blood. At first, I felt no emotion at all. I just stared, unable to believe or fully understand what I was seeing.

Sensing my motion, Uriyah asked drowsily, "What's wrong?"

I was unable to answer.

"Bathsheva, are you ill? You look a bit sallow."

I wasn't even able to blink. I just continued to stare at the darkened mass, its red color indistinguishable in the blackened room.

Fearful of my silence, Uriyah left the bed to light a lamp. When he saw the red stain, he frowned.

"What is this?" He leaned in closer to the bed. "It looks like a misshapen olive."

At these words, I began sobbing uncontrollably, holding out my hand. Since Uriyah was unable to understand what I wanted, I scooped up the olive shape in my hand, no longer caring about laws concerning cleanliness.

My tears fell into my cupped hand, washing some of the blood from what I held. I was able to see something the color of flesh. If I held it very close to my eye, I could see very tiny fingers and toes. I could not yet see the ears, but it was easy to tell where the nose had been developing. It was especially easy to see the eyes on the enlarged head, and the nearly transparent abdomen showed the beginning stages of internal organs.

Still unable to comprehend the situation, Uriyah peered into my hand. I saw his face grow pale when he finally realized what I was holding.

"Were you…?" he queried.

I nodded, still weeping into my hand. I wondered if this precious miracle would have been male or female, so I decided to give it a name that would suit both genders.

"Malka," I whispered.

Uriyah sighed deeply. "Malka."

He left the room, and I soon heard soft scraping outside. I knew Uriyah was digging a grave for Malka. I didn't understand why this unpleasant duty couldn't wait until after sunrise, but perhaps it was simply Uriyah's way of dealing with his grief.

When I placed Malka in the grave under the olive tree, it became even more real to me that my baby was gone. I would never embrace my dear child in my arms or have it sleeping on my shoulder. I would always wonder what a fine young man or young woman my lost baby could have become.

"We'll always remember the one we lost when he or she was only the size of an olive," Uriyah remarked, seeming to choke over his own words.

I was unable to rise. I simply remained on my knees, throwing myself over the grave as I wept. It was nearly an hour before my husband managed to convince me to come back inside our house.

We both helped clean up the mess on our bed, but we didn't speak to each other. What was there to say?

Uriyah finally broke the silence. "You failed me!"

He had a wild look in his eyes, as if he had taken leave of his senses. He was responding to his grief in anger.

"Why did you lose our baby? You could have at least had the decency to tell me you were with child! How long were you going to keep it a secret? I'm beginning to think you never wanted this baby in the first place!"

I have no memory of what happened next, but Uriyah later told me I became a madwoman. I kept screaming and beating my husband's chest with my fists, cursing him and saying even fertile ground could grow nothing from bad seed. I even slapped him in the face. I was looking for something to throw at his head when he seized my wrists and pinned my arms.

"No more!" he ordered, his face reddening more by the moment.

When we finally calmed, we turned out backs to each other. I lay awake for the longest time, noting from the lack of snores that Uriyah wasn't asleep either. What I had hoped would cause us to love each other was becoming a strain on our marriage.

Just when all hope seemed lost, Uriyah turned and put his arm around me, so I turned to face him. He wiped away my tears and moved a strand of my hair behind my ear.

"We'll get through this together," he consoled. "In a way, it's a blessing that the child was taken so early. Imagine how much worse our grief would be if we had smiled at the living baby in our arms before it died."

I nodded. Just before dawn, I fell into a fitful sleep in my husband's arms.

I said nothing to my mother about my pregnancy. She would have claimed that a baby is not alive until it is born. I disagreed entirely. A plant is considered alive, and a plant does not move like an unborn baby does. Even before the mother can feel the baby move, the infant is developing new parts of its body, like a plant develops flowers and leaves. Surely a baby is alive at the moment it begins to grow inside its mother, a precious gift of Elohim.


	8. Chapter 8

I hid a sigh as I tucked a bit of fresh fruit into my basket. Yonit had always been a kindred spirit. Surely she would not object to company.

Despite the bustling crowds on every street, I felt alone. While I did not deeply love Uriyah, I had become accustomed to his companionship, and without him, our small house had become too quiet.

"Must you go?" I had queried.

My husband had simply shrugged without replying. Orders were orders, and there was no help for it. The king required his service in battle, so Uriyah would leave behind his home and our lives together for the sake of duty.

As I kissed him goodbye, I promised that if he returned safely, I would bear the first of our many children. Uriyah stroked my hair gently and squeezed my hand. Then, as casually as if he were going to the market for purchases, he turned and left. Although I would often see him in my dreams each night, we would never again meet by the light of day.

When I arrived at my cousin's house, she hurried out the door to greet me. I noticed that she had gained weight, but only in her waist. Her glowing face confirmed my suspicions: She carried the child of the man she loved.

"Want to feel?" Yonit asked eagerly, taking my hand to press lightly against her waist.

I felt something squirm, as if a small frog were jumping.

"If it's a son, we're going to name him Dovev," she continued. "We'll name a daughter Alitza."

Meydad chuckled. "You may wish to welcome Bathsheva into our home first, my love. You're probably overwhelming her."

May Elohim forgive me, but I was jealous. Although he was a kind man, Uriyah had never gazed at me with such tenderness, his eyes following my every move, as Meydad affectionately observed his wife. He had never thought to surprise me with flowers.

Then again, I would never have thought to disgrace myself for Uriyah the way one woman had done for her beloved. When Shelumiyel had been called to battle, he had noticed one young man shadowing his every move.

"What is your name?" Shelumiyel had inquired.

The young man had said nothing. He was a curious youth, for not even the slightest stubble grew on his young face.

"Perhaps he is mute," Uriyah had suggested.

The youth had nodded in agreement.

Many times, the captain had thought of ridding himself of the young man. The mute youth lacked the strength and stamina of the other soldiers, but he worked tirelessly to improve.

During a relentless battle, an enemy sword had nearly ended Shelumiyel's life, but at the last moment, his silent friend violently shoved him away, sustaining a serious wound. By the time the enemy finally retreated, the poor youth had lost all strength and collapsed helplessly to the ground, trembling from exhaustion and pain as his blood spilled into the dirt.

"Why did you save me?" Shelumiyel queried in disbelief.

To everyone's surprise, the young man spoke. "I love you."

Shelumiyel gasped in horror, for this high voice was that of a woman he knew well, his beloved Ahuva. The two had been deeply in love for years, but her parents had arranged for their daughter to marry a wealthier man. Despairing over his lost love, Shelumiyel had joined the army to forget his troubles.

Unable to bear the thought of hearing that Shelumiyel had been slain in battle, Ahuva had done the unthinkable. She had greatly shortened her beautiful hair that had previously hung to her waist. Disguising herself in men's clothing, she had found a way to plead silently with the captain to allow her to join the army. Now she died in Shelumiyel's arms with his kiss on her lips, the last sounds she heard being tender assurances of love.

Shelumiyel held Ahuva until her body grew cold and stiff in his arms. He would neither eat nor sleep; he simply stared at the lifeless woman he embraced. His eyes were vacant and cold, greatly resembling the sea in winter. Furthermore, he seemed to have taken leave of his senses, for whenever someone suggested that he lay her to rest, Shelumiyel argued that he would be there for Ahuva when she woke.

He lay beside her body that night, shivering in the cold as he draped his thin blanket over her, trying to keep her warm. Each time he touched her lifeless skin, he threw more wood on the fire. Shelumiyel kept trying to convince Ahuva to take warm food, but of course, she could not.

"You must eat to keep up your strength," he explained, stroking her hair tenderly. "Then you will be warm again."

Just before dawn, Shelumiyel was finally able to accept that the woman he loved was truly dead. He shrieked and pounded the ground with his fists, cursing between sobs. He cared not in the least if such a display of grief was unbefitting a man of valor.

When Uriyah had told me the story later, I had stared in disbelief. I could hardly imagine loving my husband enough to dress like a man just to be near him in battle! I was quite content to keep house for him as a dutiful wife and leave matters of warfare in the far more capable hands of the king's finest soldiers.


	9. Chapter 9

Since the day had been so hot, I opened my window to allow a nice breeze to blow as I kneaded the dough. I had managed to catch a few locusts to mix with the flour to give the bread a little flavor. It was too hot to bake bread, but I had to eat something besides fruit.

I left the dough to rise, but I was still too hot. Perhaps I would feel better if I went wading in the stream. No, it was too hot to walk so far. Maybe I should just draw some water from the well.

After all, it was time for my ceremonial washing. My week of impurity had just ended. I would take a cool bath and feel cooler and end my time of uncleanliness at the same time.

I drew enough cool water to fill a small bowl and dipped a cloth. I first wiped the sweat from my brow, welcoming the gentle relief on my face. Then I moved the cloth to my neck, enjoying the feeling of the wind cooling the droplets of water on my skin. My hands and arms were next, and after them, my feet and legs. Afterwards, I washed under my robe, but I was careful not to expose my body while doing so.

Although I felt much better, I was unable to push aside the thought of wading, so that evening, I walked to the stream. I sat on the bank and plunged my feet into the water, gently kicking. The sinking sun was turning the stream lovely shades of bright pink and amber.

What if I were to wade deeper, only to my knees? Surely it would do no harm. After all, the water was so refreshing. Gingerly feeling my way over the rocks with my bare feet, I walked closer to the middle of the stream, being careful to hold up the hem of my robe slightly.

If I could just feel it on my hands…! I carefully held my hem between my knees and bent to scoop up a handful of water, splashing it on my face. I repeated the procedure to dampen my arms.

Seeing that the hour grew later, I returned home. The house was too quiet without Uriyah. I wished I still carried his child so I could fill my time by preparing our home for our coming baby. Tears filled my eyes as I glanced out the window, noting the olive tree where my husband had buried our child.

The following evening, I was surprised to see two men from the palace at my door. I was flustered, for I had never expected company of such high status. I had nothing prepared for my visitors.

"Are you Bathsheva, the wife of Uriyah the Hittite?" one asked before I could greet them properly.

"I am," I responded. "How may I be of service?"

"The king requests your presence at once."

I wrung my hands as I accompanied them to the palace. What did King Dawid want with me? I was certain I had broken no laws.

The palace was even grander than I had ever imagined. There were imported carpets on the floors and stunning murals on the walls, and translucent curtains graced the windows. Even inside the palace, I could hear the fountains that stood in the gardens. I felt small, like a minnow swallowed by a much larger fish.

One of the men opened a door and announced, "Here she is, Your Majesty."

I tentatively crossed the threshold and realized I was in a bedroom. The bed, which was well over twice the size of my own, had been made with silken blankets. Beside the bed was a golden stand with a bowl of fruit and an empty goblet of what must have been strong wine.

A middle-aged man sat up in the bed. His hair was already beginning to show the first signs of silver, and although I could tell his face had once been handsome, age had caused him to look a bit haggard.

"Bathsheva!" he exclaimed jubilantly.

I bowed. "How may I be of service to my king?"

He rose from the bed, and to my horror, I realized he was wearing only a loincloth. His formally toned muscles were already beginning to sag with age, for the king was old enough to be my grandfather.

"I am glad you wish to be of service!" King Dawid slapped my hip as hard as he could.

"Your Majesty, I am a married woman!" I protested.

"I have a gift for you." He kissed my neck. "If you offer your body to me willingly, I will not take you by force."

I gasped in horror and turned to flee, but the king firmly held my wrist.

"Your husband is of service in the battlefield," he stated. "Tonight you will be of service in the bedchamber." King Dawid squeezed my chest with his other hand. "I want you, Bathsheva, and I always get what I want."

"Let not my lord sin against Elohim!" I protested as the king dragged me to his bed. "Your Majesty has wives and concubines, and if these are not enough, are there no widows or maidens or harlots? Let not the king defile himself with another man's wife!"

King Dawid seized me and lay me on the bed. "You're beautiful! You're spirited! And you're not even past your eighteenth year!"

Despite my struggle, he pressed his lips against mine, moaning with pleasure as we kissed. When he finally paused for breath, he continued kissing me down my neck all the way to my heart. Pinning my arms with his hands, he forced my feet apart.

I screamed and cried as the king violated me. I felt dirty, and I wanted nothing more than to scrub away the filth of what he was doing. What would I tell my husband?

"Again!" King Dawid exclaimed, already beginning to disrobe me. "This time, make me feel like your husband!"

I thought the sooner I gave him what I wanted, the sooner he would allow me to return home, but after he overpowered me again, the king declared that he would hold me all night.

Despite the grandeur of my beauteous surroundings, I was unable to sleep. I belonged to Uriyah. No other man should have his arm around me, especially when I wore no garments! Even in his sleep, the king caressed my body.

When morning came at last, King Dawid seemed pleased with himself. "You may go. I'll see your husband well rewarded for sharing his finest possession with the king."

What about me? What reward could the king possibly give me to atone for the fact that he had forced me to be unfaithful to my husband? When had I become a possession to be shared among men rather than a dutiful wife?

I never wanted to see King Dawid again. I hoped he would be slain in battle. Why was he at the palace now? Shouldn't he be fighting with his army?

When I returned home, I threw myself onto my bed and wept. Then I heated some water, made certain my door and windows were securely fastened, and scrubbed myself. Little did I realize the damage had already been done: I had conceived the king's child.


	10. Chapter 10

I hummed to myself as I chopped the vegetables. Uriyah would be home that night, and I wanted everything to be perfect for him. He would be weary from battle, and after he had eaten a hearty meal, he would no doubt wish to spend time with me.

"Can I make you more comfortable?" I asked aloud, batting my eyelashes.

I blushed, realizing I was talking to the bread. It would be several hours before my husband arrived.

As soon as I had realized I carried the king's child, I had sent a message to King Dawid. He had replied that he would send my husband home for a night. Everyone would believe the child was Uriyah's own offspring, and my disgrace would be hidden.

While I waited for my husband, I gathered handfuls of flower petals and put them in a large bowl of water I had heated. When it was ready, I made sure my doors and windows were securely fastened, and I soaked my hands and feet. I bathed my entire body in the remaining water.

Afterwards, I rubbed scented oil on my skin and put on a clean robe. I then painted my eyes and carefully pinned up my hair attractively. Uriyah must desire me. If anyone discovered the child I carried was not his baby, I would be stoned.

I had never watched a stoning, but I imagined it must be awful to be seized and dragged to the edge of town by an angry mob. The victim was then struck with rocks, suffering from internal bleeding and broken bones until one rock finally fractured the skull.

As the afternoon finally drew to evening, I eagerly awaited Uriyah's arrival. He should be home any moment. I set the table and took my place, ready to welcome my husband.

However, the food began to grow cold, and he still had not arrived. The colors of sunset gradually faded into the darkness of twilight, but I was still alone.

Just as I was beginning to worry, I heard a knock at the door, and I hurried to answer. To my surprise, the man before me was not Uriyah, but one of the king's messengers.

"Your husband refuses to leave the palace," he explained without so much as a greeting. "He sleeps at the door of the king's house."

"Does the king know?" I queried.

"I shall have to tell him tomorrow. Good evening."

Without another word, he turned and was gone, leaving me alone with my thoughts. Of course Uriyah wouldn't be home. I shouldn't have expected him. First of all, a man was not supposed to lie with a woman, even his wife, while on military duty. Second, Uriyah was loyal to the other soldiers, refusing to rest comfortably while they slept in the field.

I wondered if he secretly knew King Dawid had defiled me. After all, it had to seem suspicious that the king summoned Uriyah from battle for the purpose of encouraging him to enjoy my company. Did my husband know the king had forced himself on me? Was he denying himself the pleasure of our marriage bed because he refused to be part of the king's cruel game?

I lay awake that night, wondering what would become of me. Everything would be so simple for King Dawid. All he had to do was deny ever being involved and allow me to be executed as an adulteress.

The following evening passed the same as the first. This time, the king had tried to make Uriyah drunk enough to lose his sense of loyalty, but my husband had still slept in front of the king's home.

"Where is he now?" I asked.

"Uriyah has returned to battle," the messenger informed me, "but the king says not to worry, for he has found a way to solve the problem."

"He begged for forgiveness after confessing to Elohim and Uriyah what he had done?"

The messenger sighed. "The king has solved the problem. He has not explained how."

I frowned. There was something about King Dawid and his devious schemes that I didn't trust, but I knew better than to voice my treasonous thoughts aloud.

A few weeks later, I received a visit from one of my husband's dearest friends. They had fought together in many battles, and they trusted each other as brothers.

"Welcome, Nuwn," I greeted. "How fare the king's valiant soldiers?"

Nuwn sighed wearily as I placed a bowl of food before him. I could tell something weighed heavily on his mind.

"I have seen the bravest of men fall to the sword," he stated.

A chill began to slither down my spine like a serpent.

"And Uriyah?" I queried.

"None fought more bravely than he."

It took a few moments for me to realize what he meant. When I understood what he was trying to say, I gasped. What would happen to me, a widow without children? Would anyone in Uriyah's family take me as his wife so I would not suffer?

"His final thoughts were of you," Nuwn remarked.

"What did he say?"

My visitor sighed again. "'Tell Sheva I was just beginning to fall in love with her.'"


	11. Chapter 11

I still wore the rough garments of a widow when Yonit sent for me. Her time had come.

Aunt Naamiy frowned when she saw me. "Is something wrong, Sheva?"

I said nothing. I had barely spoken since my husband had fallen in battle. I hadn't even been able to tell my family what had happened.

As Aunt Naamiy pulled me into a close embrace, I began sobbing. The words suddenly came gushing from my heart like water. I told her about what the king had done to me and that I now carried his child, ending my tirade by stating that Uriyah had been slain in battle.

"Oh, my dear!" Aunt Naamiy allowed me to bury my head in her shoulder like a young child. "Does your mother know?"

"How can I tell her?" I sobbed. "She'd just tell me that death was inevitable."

Yonit looked remarkably well for a woman in her condition. She winced each time she felt a pain, but she had yet to scream. I remembered Aunt Naamiy's explanation that the experience was different for all mothers. Some claimed it hurt worse than anything fathomable; others felt nothing worse than strong indigestion.

It all seemed so unfair. My cousin was bringing forth the son or daughter of the man she loved dearly, and they would be a happy family. I carried the child of a man I despised, having been widowed by the man I had hoped to love one day.

The horrid memories I had of my sister dying in childbirth had no place in Yonit's life. She travailed only a short time before she brought forth twins. Meydad's eyes shone with pride when he saw his children, and Yonit had never looked happier.

It was more than I could bear. I took my leave as soon as I could do so graciously. There was no pleasure in having new additions to my extended family. I simply felt a dark, cold lump within me.

Aunt Naamiy had been right about one thing: I couldn't postpone the inevitable forever. I had to tell my parents what had happened, but I still wasn't ready to face Ima, so I decided to visit Qetsiyah first.

My older sister's eyes widened when she saw me. "Sheva, what are you wearing?"

"Widow's garments," I stated simply.

"I envy you."

I frowned. "Are you unhappy?"

She pulled back her hair, revealing a bruise on her neck. "Gaddiyel is a wonderful man when he's of sound mind, but every few weeks, he has too much wine and finds fault with everything I do. He always feels guilty when he sees my wounds the following day."

Unsure of what to say, I kept silent.

"Once he even went in to a harlot!" A tear streaked down my sister's face. "She conceived and gave him a son. If Gaddiyel had come to me that night, perhaps I would have given him a child. Now my duty as his wife has been usurped by a harlot!"

"Why didn't you tell me before?" I asked. "You became a wife years before I did."

"He's only recently turned to wine. I keep asking myself what I did wrong, how I upset him so he didn't want to live as my husband anymore. Why was I not comfort enough for him? Why did he turn to drink? He seemed happy enough for the first several years of our marriage."

"What are you going to do?"

"What can I do? He's my husband."

I slipped back into my habitual silence. Why was marriage so complicated? Why were some couples elated to live together while others struggled?

Sometimes I still saw Uriyah in my dreams. Every time I opened my eyes, I was startled by the silence of my empty home. Then I looked at my growing figure and remembered the nightmare that had me entrapped within its cruel grasp.

What would I do with the baby? I could hardly raise it alone. My sister would be no help, especially with an abusive husband. My cousin had two of her own babies, so she wouldn't want another.

"We'll make it somehow," I whispered to my unborn child several times a day.

One afternoon, I received a visit from a messenger who worked at the palace. I was so surprised to see him that I nearly dropped the dough I was kneading.

"Is something the matter?" I asked.

He cleared his throat. "King Dawid wishes to see you at once."


	12. Chapter 12

I threw myself onto my bed and wept. An hour prior, King Dawid had placed his seal on a document.

"Now you are my wife!" he announced proudly.

"But what about the ceremony?" I demanded.

"Too conspicuous." He stroked the bulge of my waist. "We shall have a proper celebration after you bear my son."

"Thank you for your gracious offer to care for me, Your Majesty," I began. "I am pleased that the king delights in his child and has considered my happiness, but I am unworthy to become your wife."

King Dawid slapped my hip in reply, allowing his hand to linger. "Our son deserves the life of a prince, and he shall have it. Rewarding his mother is only fitting."

"I do not wish to wed you!" I retorted, spitting in his face.

I recoiled in horror. The king could have me executed for my insolence, but in my moment of anger, I didn't care. Let him put me to the sword if he wished. I would die bravely, just as my husband had.

"No doubt you are simply upset because of your condition." King Dawid waved his hand dismissively.

My weeping was interrupted by the sound of rapping at my door.

"Who's there?" I asked tearfully.

The door opened, and an older woman entered. Her face was not yet wrinkled, but she bore the brown spots of age.

"So you're Dawid's newest conquest." She tilted her head slightly to the left as she scrutinized me. "I remember when I was young and beautiful like you. Just wait. It will never last."

"I hope not!" I retorted.

The woman nodded sagely. "I hate him too."

Unsure of how to respond, I changed the subject. "To what do I owe the honor of this visit?"

"Just wanted to make sure you're comfortable enough."

I sighed. How could there be any comfort for a woman married to a tyrant?

"How long have you known the king?" I queried.

"Since we were young. I had the displeasure of being his first wife!"

From stories I had heard, I knew that Dawid's first wife was called Michal.

"Did you ever love him?" I wondered aloud.

Michal smiled sadly. "Well, if you've got time, I can tell you about him."

She explained that it had been very easy to fall in love with young Dawid. He played music that soothed the heart of her father, King Shaul. He had become as a brother to Prince Yehonathan. He was handsome and muscular with a briskness to his step and a gleam in his eye.

Michal often plucked flowers for herself and pretended Dawid had given them to her. Sometimes she would order one of her servants to dance with her so she could close her eyes and pretend she danced with Dawid.

On one occasion, she had gotten so lost in her reverie that she told the servant, "Speak words of love to me, my beloved Dawid."

Unsure of himself, the servant did his best to obey. "For you, beauteous princess, I would slay all men of the Philistine army. Allow me to play for you on my harp."

"Kiss me!"

With her eyes still closed, Michal threw her arms around the hapless servant and began kissing him passionately. Unfortunately, King Shaul happened to walk into the room at that moment. When he saw a mere servant with the princess in his arms, he flew into a rage, threatening to execute the poor man. Fortunately, Michal was finally able to return to reality and explain the situation.

The king tugged at his beard. "You favor young Dawid, do you?"

Before any plans could be made, the land was once again ravaged by war, but the Philistines had not attacked without strategy.

There was a man among them called Golyat. King Shaul was taller than most men, and Golyat was even taller than King Shaul. Rather than both sides slaying each other without mercy, the Philistines proposed an easier solution: Let an Israelite champion fight Golyat. The victor would claim his enemies as slaves for his people.

It seemed natural that King Shaul would fight, but he was afraid. Not only would his loss would result in his death, but it would also condemn the Israelites to serve the Philistines. The king waited to see which of his strongest soldiers would volunteer for such an important mission, but days passed without results.

King Shaul finally realized he would have to offer a huge reward to entice any willing man to risk his life. He offered riches, tax exemption, and the hand of his daughter. However, even with such great rewards, no man was found who was brave enough to take such a risk.

Just when all seemed loss, King Shaul heard reports that Dawid had come to bring food to his brothers, and he was asking about Golyat. The king immediately sent for Dawid, but he was surprised by what he heard.

"Let no man's heart fail him from fear. Your servant will fight this Philistine."

King Shaul inwardly groaned. What manner of cruel joke was he hearing? He had waited forty days for a champion, and now a young shepherd, little more than a child, was volunteering for the battle that caused grown men, trained soldiers, to flee in terror.

"You cannot fight him," the king replied. "You are a youth, and he has been trained for battle from his youth. He's been a man of war for far longer than you've been alive."

"I too have fought in battle!" Dawid insisted.

He began telling the king of faithful Mahir and beloved Tuwbal. "I have killed both lion and bear. This uncircumcised Philistine will fall like another beast. Elohim will deliver him into my hand!"

Realizing he had no choice but to relent, King Shaul offered Dawid his armor, but it proved too cumbersome for the young shepherd. Dawid took only his sling, his staff, and five stones that he found in the brook.

Golyat found the situation insulting. Why had Yisrael sent an unarmed boy to fight the finest warrior among the Philistines?

"Am I a dog?" he demanded, his deep voice echoing off the rimrocks surrounding the valley.

There was a double meaning to his words. _Dog_ referred not only to the four-legged beast that barked and wagged its tail, but also to homosexual prostitutes. Golyat clearly believed fighting Dawid was an insult to his manliness. He began cursing the youth by all the gods of the Philistines.

In contrast to Golyat's resounding voice, Dawid's cracked from his young age. "You come to me with a sword, a spear, and a javelin, but I come to you in the name of the Lord of hosts, the God of the armies of Yisrael, whom you have defied. This day, Elohim will deliver you into my hand, and I will strike you and take your head from you, and I will give the carcasses of the Philistines to the birds of the air and the wild beasts of the earth, that all the world may know there is a God in Yisrael. Then all the assembly will know that Elohim does not save with sword and spear, for the battle is the Lord's, and he will give you into our hands."

Dawid was clever. He knew from the way Golyat was glancing around that the warrior was nearsighted. No doubt Golyat saw well enough to defeat any man in close combat, but that wasn't Dawid's fighting style. He had seen the damage his sling could do.

Golyat was so enraged that he rushed forward to kill Dawid as quickly as possible. Dawid ran to meet his enemy, his hands steady as he calmly drew a stone from his pouch and placed it in his sling. A few quick turns of his wrist, and Dawid sent the stone sailing through the air. It came to rest lodged in Golyat's forehead.

Michal hoped that now that Yisrael's enemies were defeated, she would finally be wed to her champion, but it wasn't to be. Little did she realize the day would arrive when she would wish they had never met.


End file.
